


Skira

by GreekerGeek



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25703092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreekerGeek/pseuds/GreekerGeek
Summary: Obi-Wan was exhausted. Three weeks of what felt like Sith hell did nothing for his sore body, and his mind didn’t thank him either. His frayed force sense added on to the fact that he was mentally and physically exhausted, was probably the reason he didn’t notice when someone entered the room. He did notice, however, when he got stabbed in the neck.AU set in Millberry_5's Integration universe.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 42
Kudos: 324
Collections: Integration: The Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Millberry_5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Integration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920878) by [Millberry_5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/pseuds/Millberry_5). 



> I really thought I could get away with never writing Fanfiction in my entire life. Damn. This is my first time writing, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is absolutely welcomed!

“Obi-wan”

“Hmm”

“You got to get off of me, I'm gonna be late for the council meeting, and Akkus is gonna be furious if one of us isn’t present,” Jango grumbles from under Obi-wan’s sprawled body. He had already tried to get Obi-wan off without waking him up, but unfortunately, or fortunately, ever since Obi-wan got back his trip with Horo, Obi-wan had been extremely clingy. 

“hmm”

Jango rolls his eyes and flips them over so he was on top of his cyar'ika. Nuzzling into his ear he murmurs “as much as I love the cuddling, they will have both of our heads”

“mmm fuck the council,” Obi-wan says and squawks when Jango licks his ear.

Jango gets out of bed and pads over to the fresher saying “you’re not allowed to fuck my council” as he slips into the fresher to get ready for the day. 

Stepping out a few minutes later, Jango takes a moment to study Obi-wan and realizes how exhausted his lover looks. The skin under his eyes have dark circles, and he lost a little weight from the stress of leading his exploratory team into abandoned sith temples. He traces his eyes from the dark semi-circles down his flushed cheeks and parted lips past his curved spine and finished where Obi-wan’s sleep pants barely covered his ass. 

“Stop staring Mr. I need to go to the council meeting and go to your council meeting” Obi-wan snarks with his eyes still closed a half-smirk on his lips before mashing his face back into his pillow. Obi-wan was not ready to forsake the warm bed. 

“oh-ho ok, Mr. too tired to join my Mand’alor for important council meetings” Jango snarks right back with a playful smack on Obi-wan’s ass and quickly backs up knowing that his lover would retaliate. Eyes still closed Obi-wan lifts his hand and throws the nearest object off the nightstand with the force.

“Is this for me?” Jango cheekily grins, clipping Obi-wan’s lightsaber to his belt and moves over to the rest of his weapons to gear up. He leans down and whispers into his ear, “I think I’ll keep it till lunch as punishment for the obvious attack on the Mand’alor” “You’ll have to earn it back of course” he whispers, tracing his finger down Obi-wan’s spine and getting rewarded by a shiver. Smiling, Jango stands up and starts to head over to the door of their shared quarters.

“Yeah whatever be careful with that, that _is_ my life.” Obi-wan turns away from Jango and goes back to sleep. The tone of his voice indicated that he was saying something that he found amusing. 

“Always beloved,” Jango hollered as he walked out. 

* * *

Obi-Wan was exhausted. Three weeks of what felt like Sith hell did nothing for his sore body, and his mind didn’t thank him either. His frayed force sense added on to the fact that he was mentally and physically exhausted, was probably the reason he didn’t notice when someone entered the room. He did notice, however, when he got stabbed in the neck. 

The force reacted before he could even open his eyes, and his attacker flew across the room, slamming into the bookshelf. Obi-wan’s vision blurred as he stumbled out of bed, grabbing his neck. His pulse thrummed under his fingers, and he felt his heart beating erratically. Something felt very wrong. Shaking his head his eyes landed on a syringe filled with orange liquid lying on the floor next to his hand. He pushed his senses out into the force, but the only input he received was a disorienting pain. Obi-wan gasped, and the force flared briefly before going quiet, and with horror, he realized he was cut off from the force. 

Now Obi-wan has had his fair share of force suppressants. Special classes at the temple taught young padawans how to cope with force inhibitors and suppressants, and how to safely handle them, but nothing prepared him to deal with how to handle being completely cut off from the force. He felt bloody and raw like someone dragged live wires across his body after flaying him alive. His senses were dull, and his head felt concussed. 

He hears books shuffling, and, with a surprising amount of effort, he pushed himself to his feet, taking on a fighting stance. Blood pounded in his ears as he watched his attacker get to his feet. A human in mercenary armor pushed himself out from under the broken bookshelf. His head was covered by a black helmet, and his fingers twitched before he launched himself at Obi-wan. 

Obi-wan forced his hands up in time to block the punch and quickly returned with one of his own. The man didn’t bother with blocking as Obi-wan’s hand crashed into the side of his hard armor, letting out a small breath as the only indication that he felt it. His muscles burned as he tried to block the next few punches, succeeding until his attacker landed a solid punch to his gut. Obi-wan doubled over, covering his stomach, as the man's hands grasped the back of his neck and slammed his face down into his knee. Obi-wan saw stars as he fell onto his knees. His confused brain was already having trouble with the force blockers without the additional head trauma, so he focused on breathing as he fought to stay conscious. 

“You know,” the man says as he walks around Obi-wan, “I was expecting more of a challenge from the great Jedi general turned Mandalorian slut”. The man sighs, and a helmet falls on the floor. His fingers thread through Obi-wan’s hair, and his other hand pulls the sheet off the bed. “I guess that was a bunch of propaganda bullshit wasn’t it?” he murmured and slammed his head into the nightstand. Obi-wan’s vision blacked out for a second as the man started to wrap the twisted bedsheet around his neck. 

“It's a pity,” the man laughs, and he tightens his grip, forcing Obi-wan’s back to the floor, “you won’t get to suffer the full effects of the cocktail I gave you.” Obi-wan struggles to get his fingers under the sheet, and the man leans his face down close enough to share the same air. His blue eyes glinting maliciously and thin lips twist, “I think you should thank me for giving you a less painful death.” 

Obi-wan flings his right arm, grasping for anything to use as a weapon, and the man leans closer, whispering, “go ahead thank me.” as Obi-wan’s hand grasps Jango’s vibroknife sheathed under his bed. Obi-wan smiles at the man, wheezes “thank you.”, and slashes his attacker's throat open. 

Fingers release the sheet. His torn throat gapes open, and the body slumps onto him, soaking his sleep shirt in blood. Obi-wan’s brings his shaking fingers up to the sheet and uses the last of his strength to try to loosen it. His lungs spasmed, and darkness crept in on the edges of his vision before rough hands grab him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys thank you so much for the comments! Seriously seriously seriously made my days so much better! I was a little nervous posting for the first time, but you guys hyped me up enough for me to sit my ass down and write another chapter. If you think tags need to be added please tell me and I'll fix them. Also, this is my first time using gender-neutral pronouns ever so please let me know if I mess up! I want to get those right :)

Jango was having a great day. His meeting with the council went smoothly, his Riduur was back home safe and sound, and he found he had some free time before his next meeting with Effao. Not even Akkus waltzing over with a smirk on zis face could dampen his mood. 

“Mand’alor, you look like you’re in a good mood,” ze teased, never one to miss out on an opportunity to make fun Jango. Akkus elbowed him in the side joking, “now I wonder, is it because the sith seem to be retreating or is it because you had fun with our adat’juri last night,” wiggling zis eyebrows at the lewd suggestion. 

Jango smirks back at zim, already mourning his free time, and rolls his eyes replying “we’re all happy Obi-wan and his team returned safely and with an abundance of information Akkus. Is there something I can do for you, or are you just here to tease me?” He hoped there wasn’t anything that required his attention at the moment. He desperately wanted some cafe. 

Akkus’ faces pulled into a fake frown, “I thought we were friends Alor’ika, cant a friend inquire after their friend’s good mood?”

“Not when they are being smug about it no.”

“Ahh, so I see you’ve taken my suggestion about th-”

Huffing, Jango turned to go to the commissary, “ok Akkus, I'm leaving now.”

At that Akkus laughs, speed walking to catch up to Jango, “Wait I actually do have something that requires your attention. Do you remember a few weeks ago when one of our checkpoints caught that dar’manda trying to smuggle children into Hutt space? Well, those children are a few weeks into the integration program, and one of them is starting to show signs of being force sensitive. I know you and Obi-wan have been discussing what to do when you capture force sensitives, and I was wondering if you would like to introduce her to Obi-wan with me. She didn’t believe me when I said I knew the Mand’alor, so you have to help me now.” He side-eyed Jango, “and so you can oogle your Riduur.”

Jango sighs, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes, “Fine, but only so Obi-wan has to deal with his student gushing about me.”

“I knew you would make the right decision.”

* * *

Jango never knew little girls could scream so loud. On the way to Obi-wan’s class, little Kuna Skyco decided to learn the ins and outs of everything under the Mandalorian Empire. Jango, being the little sucker he was for children, tried to answer all of them, but had a hard time being quick enough before getting steamrolled with the next one. Akkus the osik, seemed to be a little too smug about it. Jango made a mental note to make zim pay for this the next time they sparred. 

Kuna’s questions tapered off as they entered one of Obi-wan’s classes. Her eyes went wide as she tilted her head, a fierce curiosity burning in her gaze. Jango knew the barest minimum about the force, but he was guessing all these force sensitives clustered into one space was a new experience for her. Obi-wan was going to love her.

“Mand’alor!” Kurri came running up to Jango and latched her arms around his legs. Pulling back, she peered suspiciously at him “Master Obi-wan is late.”

“Oh really? I thought this class starts in ten minutes?”

“Not here early is late for master Obi-wan,” she snarked back with a mischievous grin before turning her eyes on Kuna, “Hi, I’m Kurri. She/her/hers. You must be new. Are you going to be a new student for this class?” At Kuna’s determined nod, she started to bounce up and down, “You’re gonna love it we learn tons of cool stuff like how to make things levitate and-”

Jango tunes out the little girls as Kuna restarts her rapid-fire questions, which Kurri meets with rapid-fire answers of equal gusto. Akkus dismissed zimself, saying ze had a meeting, and Jango is left in a room with Obi-wan’s students. 

Jango is so proud of his riduur. The kids in this room used to be afraid of what they are. Some of the children used to be melancholic, while others were prone to dissociating because they didn’t understand what they were born with, but Obi-wan coaxed each child out of their shell and helped them bloom into confident individuals who their parents were not afraid of ‘floating away’.

Jango is startled out of his reminiscing when the room suddenly plunges into silence. With the exception of Kuna, who seemed just as confused as Jango was, every child was still, eyes wide in confusion. Some of the smaller children burst into tears. The first to break out of it was a panicked Kurri. She grabbed onto Jango’s beskar armor and shook it, begging for his attention. He kneeled down to be eye level with her and placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to soothe her. Kurri’s chest heaved as she stared into Jango’s eyes and said words that nearly stopped his heart cold. 

“Master Obi-wan is in pain and I-“ large, fat, tears rolled down her face as she shuddered “I can't feel him anymore. He’s always in the back of my head and he calls it a force bond but I can’t feel him anymore and it hurts-” she sobbed. 

With one glance at the older student here to help Obi-wan instruct, or in this case watch over the children, Jango was out of that room sprinting to their quarters. His thoughts spun around his head and blood pounded in his ears louder than his footsteps on the ground. He needed to get to Obi-wan. He didn’t know that much about the force, but he knew enough to know that something was happening with him. 

* * *

Obiwan's guards were dead in the hallway.

Inside their room, the bookshelf was smashed and books were scattered on the floor. From beyond the other side of the bed, a pool of blood was slowly growing. Panic seized his chest, and he couldn't breathe. Jango rushed over, his heart in his throat, and desperately feared what he would find on the other side of the bed. 

Obi-wan was laying under a man, trapped by his body weight. His fingers were clawing at a bedsheet wrapped around his neck, and his face was purple. A bloody knife laid next to his hand and a syringe farther beyond that. With a growl, Jango threw the man off of Obi-wan and unloosed the sheet just as Obi-wan’s eyes started to go glassy. Obi-wan gasped large, shuddering lungfuls of air. His unfocused eyes stared at the ceiling.

“What happened? Where are you hurt?” Jango franticly felt down Obi-was torso, looking for the cause of all the blood and not finding anything. He glanced back at the corpse seeing a slit throat. 

“Jango” Obi-wan wheezed. Blood leaked from his temple and broken nose, “Jango the force I-” and broke off with a low groan. 

“Its gonna be alright I’m calling the medics and they are on their way right now, but you need to tell me what’s wrong. Where does it hurt?”

“pois-” he breaks off with a gasp, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Tears of blood start to drip down from his eyes, and his back arches painfully off the ground. Not knowing what to do, Jango cups Obi-wan’s head in his hands and desperately tries to stop Obi-wan from doing more damage to his head. He brings Obi-wan’s head to rest in his lap, stroking his bloody hair off his forehead. Jango feels helpless watching his Riduur in agony, and he comms the healers again, practically screaming at them to get here faster. 

The medics arrive as Obi-wan stops thrashing. Jango couldn't breathe. He looked dead. He barely has enough time to see Obi-wan’s chest is rise and fall before someone pulls him out of the way. Hands settle on his shoulders in almost the exact way Jango tried to comfort Kurri, and a medic’s face is put directly in his line of vision. They try to speak with him, probably asking what happened, but Jango’s focus was on Obi-wan’s still body being placed onto a gurney while medics barked out orders. His view was blocked as they rush him out of the room.

The medic from earlier must have gone with him because he is left alone in the room. He stares at the door before dragging his eyes back down to his hands. Jango forces himself to take a deep breath and rubs his fingers together, as if he just realized the tacky blood that was drying on his hands, and shuddered, not being able to tell if it was Obi-wan’s or the man sent to kill his husband. This was their home, their room. Obi-wan was supposed to be safe here. His head rose to stare at the attacker. Anger clenched his heart, settling in his stomach, turning his vision red before he remembers what his husband was trying to tell him. What could very possibly be the last words he ever says to Jango. Next to the corpse was a syringe half-filled with orange liquid. Poison. Resolve burns through his body. Whoever did this will pay. And with that promise, Jango stood, grabbed the syringe, and rushed out of the room after the medics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried really hard to get Jango right for this chapter. Like yes, he wanted to go into murder mode, but I feel like he would be such a softy with hurt Obi-wan. I didn't mention this before, but this takes place a few years after the end of Integration, so their relationship has evolved (even though the circumstances of them getting together was hella creepy).
> 
> Anyways lmk what you think?

**Author's Note:**

> First Chapter... what do y'all think? Please comment if I should write more because I'm definitely going to need motivation. I have a tentative plan for this story, but I'm willing to hear suggestions. I don't think I'll ever be impatient for an author to post again. Jeeze writing is hard lmao. Any grammatical errors are entirely my own sleep-deprived fault.


End file.
